


In the Midst of Nothing

by thevalesofanduin



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Basically any warnings that go on a zombie movie, Gen, M/M, Minor Character Death, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 15:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10722384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thevalesofanduin/pseuds/thevalesofanduin
Summary: “We can give you some supplies if you want to suffer in solitude or shall we get you out of your misery now?”Those are not the words Leonard McCoy wants to hear, standing pressed against a wall in a dark room after he just got rescued from Klingons.So he looks up at his savior and sneers “fucking humanity has lost its mind," because in the wake of the dead coming back to life, how could they not?





	In the Midst of Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> This is my baby, I loved writing it and I hope y'all enjoy it!

Leonard’s running fast.

_So fast_

It’s heart-beat in his throat and blood pulsing through his body fast.

It’s feet almost flying over the cracked street, harsh breaths that don’t provide enough oxygen but the adrenaline keeps him going anyway.

Adrenaline and the basic instinct to _survive_ push him, push his body to go, go, _go!_ Never mind the fact he hasn’t eaten in two days and there’s a nasty gash on his leg.

_Never mind_

Because if he doesn’t run, he’ll die.

No, not die.

Death would be a blessing nowadays.

There’s wind cutting his skin, tangling his hair and tears stinging in his eyes.

Vision blurred, he doesn’t notice the sidewalk.

His foot catches and before he can even think he’s face-down against the hard, cold pavement. His breath knocked out of him, scrapes on his palms, his knees, _fuck_ his leg!

Now that he doesn’t hear his own footsteps anymore it’s just his harsh, quick breaths and behind him shuffling feet and low, guttural groans.

He turns himself over despite his whole body aching, protesting but he has to, needs to turn, move, _get out of here_.

When he’s turned, though, he freezes. His eyes widen and a breathless gasp passes his lips.

A cold dread curls in his gut, a wildfire of fear thrumming through his veins because _shit,_ they’re closer than he thought.

So close, _too close!_

He tries to push himself up but his wrist aches, wobbles, then gives and his leg stings so much he can’t help the small cry of pain.

They don’t care though, in fact it almost seems like a fallen prey urges them to move faster. Legs dragging, bodies hunching and with blisters, bites, blood and sometimes even _missing limbs_ they’re a vision worse than the Devil himself could’ve come up with. And the smell.

_Christ,_ the smell.

Leonard’s nose _hurts_ from just breathing in the air, stale with that poignant hint of rotting flesh, sour, _disgusting_.

It’s what gets him out of his stupor, though, because it makes him realize he needs to move, damn it.

Do something!

He reaches down, takes his pistol from its holster and his shaking fingers need a second attempt to switch off the safety before he raises it up with trembling hands.

It never gets easier.

It doesn’t matter that what’s walking up to him has maggots hanging out of one of its eyes. It’s still eyes. Beneath it all, there was still a person.

_Idiot, it’s you or them don’t be so sentimental. They’re trying to kill us!_ Jocelyn’s agitated voice echoes through his mind.

He squeezes the trigger – like his Daddy taught him, slowly, slowly, _slowly._

_Click_

His breath’s knocked out of him, his whole body feels like it’s not his own anymore as he squeezes the trigger again.

_Click_

And again and again and again but it’s useless and the click, click, click of the empty magazine does _nothing_ to calm down the sheer panic that rolls through his body like a tsunami.

He pushes himself back, mind willing his body to ignore the sting in his wrist and he manages to scramble to his feet. He stumbles back, barely manages to keep his balance and he should turn around so he can see where he’s going but he can’t. Doesn’t dare to turn his back to the Klingons stalking up to him.

They’re so close he can almost _feel_ their outstretched fingers on his skin and he stumbles back another step, back hitting a wall.

_No, oh God no_

The sound of a shot ringing through the air reaches Leonard’s ears at the same time that he sees the Klingon closest to him fall down.

A harsh gasps is forced from his throat.

Another shot, another Klingon swaying on its feet, stumbling a step forward before falling down to the ground with a loud thud.

Relieved tears sting Leonard’s eyes and he swears he’s never heard a more beautiful sound.

At the third shot a movement on his left catches his eyes. He turns his head and there, about ten meters away is an open door and someone waving him over.

Rescue, his way out.

He doesn’t think, doesn’t look how close the Klingon’s are, he just _runs_.

Every third step his leg buckles, he stumbles and winces and _fuck, it hurts_ but it’s life-or-death now and its basic instinct that keeps him going, faster, _faster!_

Hands grab him when he reaches the door, pull him inside, push him against the wall and the outside world is locked away with a loud bang of the metal door closing.

Safety, finally!

There’s a gun pressed against the side of his head before he has the chance to even catch his breath.

A flashlight’s turned on, light right in his face and his eyes sting.

As he tries to turn his head away, though, there’s a hand at his chin, tightly holding him in place. Bright blue eyes lock onto his and the man digs his fingers into Leonard’s skin a bit harsher as he demands: “Who are you?”

Leonard’s mind falters for a moment and he thrashes underneath the man’s hold as he’s still breathing harshly, chest rising and falling rapidly and _calm down_ he tells himself.

“He’s got a wound on his leg.” Another man speaks up, heavy Scottish accent laced with worry and suspicion.

Leonard’s cheek is released, the blue eyed man stepping back and holding his hand to his chest almost as if he just got burned. His eyes fly to Leonard’s leg, take in the ripped lower-half of the cargo pants, the gash.

“I can explain.” Leonard starts because he _knows_ what this looks like and dear Lord sometimes humans are more trouble than those damned Klingons.

All he gets in reply is a shake of a head, a sad and pitiful look from the man in front of him – the only one he can see with that flashlight still in his face – and the offer: “We can give you some supplies if you want to suffer in solitude or…” He swallows, averts his eyes and when he looks back at Leonard there’s steel in blue eyes: “or shall we get you out of your misery now?”

Leonard’s eyes widen. “What, no!” He cries, raises his hands and takes a step forward.

But the person on his left raises a gun to Leonard’s face when he moves and Leonard glares at the man in front of him, backing himself into the wall again. “No need to blow my brains out just yet.” He grits and shakes his head. “Fucking humanity has lost its mind.” He spits and waves at his leg. “It’s just a cut, man. Do you think if I’d get bitten by one of those _things_ I’d let you guys take me?”

“You tell me.”

“Fuck you.” Leonard spits into the man’s face, anger coursing through him, clenched hands shaking. “I’m a doctor, I’d _never_ endanger others like that.”

The man leans his head to the side with a raised eyebrow before he waves a hand in the air. “Why don’t you have a look, Spock.”

A black haired man steps into the light – Spock, apparently –  and squats down in front of Leonard, squints at the wound and reaches out a hand, letting it hover just above the wound. “Aesthetically it is highly unlikely this is a bitemark therefor I believe he might be speaking the truth.”

“Such a professional assessment, thanks.” Leonard drawls with a look down at Spock, mostly annoyed now.

He gets why they’re doing this, he does. Doesn’t make it feel any better.

Blue Eyes huffs. “You always this grateful?”

Leonard raises a challenging eyebrow at the man. “I’ll thank you when I don’t have a gun digging a hole in my head and can actually _see_ who saved me.”

“Charming.” Blue Eyes huffs with a hint of amusement and signals to Scottish Accent with a mumble of “lights, please”.

The lights blink a few times before turning on with a soft hum, the room – which looks like an emergency exit staircase – bathed in fluorescent light.

Leonard squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and when he opens them again he gives Blue Eyes – Christ is that man unfairly handsome – a once-over. He averts his eyes quickly, glances Spock and then at Scottish Accent standing at the light switch who looks a whole lot friendlier than Leonard had expected.

“So,” Blue Eyes scrapes his throat, drawing Leonard’s attention. “I’m Jim. That’s Spock,” a wave to the black haired man, “and Scotty.” Jim finishes with a wave to the man standing at the light switch. “Welcome to the Enterprise.”

 

\---

 

Of course The Enterprise is an old factory with the only livable spaces up at the _tenth fucking floor_.

_Of course_ Spock is the strong one of the three and helps – manhandles – Leonard up the stairs.

When he’s almost dumped into the chair waiting in the small room they’ve led him to he’s grateful for it.

He leans back against the chair and closes his eyes, feeling a bone-deep tiredness seep over him as well of the realization that _everything hurts_.

“Scotty’s getting someone to look at your leg.” Jim says from where he’s leaning against a desk.

Leonard cracks open an eye, sees Spock lingering in the doorway – gun still drawn – and he leans forward. “Thanks,” he gives Jim a small smile. “For the rescue as well. It’s… much appreciated.”

Jim grins and asks playfully: “Was that so hard?”

Leonard’s about to respond with something sarcastic when hurried footsteps near them.

He turns his head to the door way and Scotty enters first followed closely by –

“Christine?!”

The whole room seems to freeze at Leonard’s outburst, all except for the blonde woman who just gasp, drops the bag she’s carrying in shock and rushes over to the chair.

Leonard pushes himself up, ignores his leg and pulls the woman into a one-arm hug. “Chris, fuck it’s good to see you.” He mumbles and closes his eyes for a moment because this is familiar, this is someone he knows.

_He’s not alone after all_

“I can say the same,” Christine says as she steps back a bit and there’s relief and happy wonder on her face. “Good to see you alive, Doctor.” She says fondly. “Now, let a nurse do her job and sit down.” She gently pushes him down into the chair again and Scotty brings over the bag she’d dropped.

They don’t talk as she works, Leonard knowing she prefers it that way from when they’d been working at the hospital together before… well, before.

Before shit hit the fan, before the meaning of the word life itself changed. It seems like ages ago, a distant memory close to forgetting while in reality it’s only been three years.

It started after Trump – or perhaps it started with Trump, it’s not like there is a society left to write in-depth opinionated publications so it all depends on who you ask, really. Although to give Trump the full responsibility of the current state of the world would be too much credit.

Either way, after he’d attacked Syria back in 2017 the need for bio-weapons became _real_.

Professor Klingon was assigned by the US Government to research the possibilities of bio-weapons. He’d gone beyond that and in a egoistical ambition had _created_ a virus that was said to mute a person’s brain so it could be overtaken, reprogrammed. Perfect for infiltration purposes.

On paper.

The first tests had gone horribly wrong, test-subjects showing unexpected violent behavior – a bloodlust of a kind – rather than the muted state that was expected. The testing facility didn’t manage to keep them in and with a virus not only lethal but also in the testing stages out in the world, it was a nightmare waiting to happen.

_Of course_ the government tried to cover it up. But when people fell ill, died and then _came back to life again_ there was no amount of Fake News that could be fed to the people.

Especially not when other countries reported the same viral outbreak.

A global pandemic and a war against the living dead later and many places on Earth are a mess, unorganized, people scattered. There are new cities being rebuild and slowly, _very slowly_ , humanity is trying to reorganize itself again.

It’s a slow process, it will take time and perhaps generations especially since the Klingon’s still roam around.

Klingon’s, Leonard always thinks, is the perfect name for _them_. A perfect yet twisted reminder that it was humanity itself that caused its own downfall.

A soft pat against his upper-thigh pulls him from his thoughts and he finds Christine looking up at him.

“It’s not _just_ a scratch as you said, but a scratch nonetheless.” She says, the words _no infection_ visible in her relieved eyes and audible in the lightness of her voice. “You know what I’m going to say but I’m saying it anyway. Try and stay off of it for a bit, give it rest and you should be right as rain in a week or so.”

Leonard nods with a small, grateful smile. “Thanks Chris.”

She waves it off with a huff and turns to put away her supplies.

When Christine’s packed up her things Jim stands up and claps his hands. “All right, so I’ll introduce you to the rest and show you to your room.”

 

The rest is a group of twenty-something others living in the building. Everyone’s on the top floor.

Offices are for sleeping, the cafeteria is the main recreation area and the board-room has been set up as lookout HQ.

Leonard has to say, he’s impressed.

It’s one of the better equipped hideout’s he’s seen and the organization of it seems smooth.

He’s being introduced to Hikaru and Pavel in the lookout-room when a woman breezes in.

Dark hair up in a tight pony-tail and long legs clad in leather Leonard raises an eyebrow in surprise when she walks up to Spock and presses a kiss to his cheek.

“That’s Nyota,” Jim says and smirks at Leonard. “She saved your life.”

Nyota’s eyes turn to Leonard and she leans her head to the side with a smile. “Always happy to get rid of some Klingons.”

“Especially if it saved my life.” Leonard laughs and gives Nyota a grateful smile. “I owe you.”

 

\---

 

He gets assigned a mattress in Jim’s room which sleeps Jim, Scotty, Pavel and now Leonard as well.

Four grown man in a tiny office with no windows but it fits – if barely – and they make it work.

Jim’s the apparent leader of the building but when Leonard mentions it he brushes it off with an embarrassed flush and a shrug that looks so adorable on him that Leonard has to avert his eyes lest he do something stupid. Turns out, Jim was a cop before this happened and the only reason why he’s all right with leading anyone in anything is because it’s _familiar_.

Leonard’s impressed and intrigued.

Scotty’s an engineer and an altogether friendly guy with a sense of humor Leonard can appreciate and some bottles of whiskey Leonard can appreciate even more.

Pavel is _young_ , not even eighteen and Leonard knows there’s children around as well but to share a room with someone so young makes his protective instincts kick into overdrive. Somehow, though, he doubts Pavel would appreciate it if he locked him in the room as the kid – apparently an exchange student from Russia – is freakishly smart. Leonard can appreciate that and feeds into the other’s curious nature by teaching him something new every day trying very hard to forget how much he misses being a father.

 

\---

 

One evening he’s sitting at one of the rec-room tables playing cards with Christine when she glances up at him hesitantly.

“What?” He asks, amused. It’s not like Christine to be nervous about things.

“Just… I’ve been meaning to ask.” She starts and then lowers her voice and with pleading eyes asks: “Where’s Joss… Jo?”

Leonard feels the bile burn up his throat, tastes it in his mouth and he turns his eyes to the nearest wall trying not to gag.

Voices in his head, Joanna crying and Jocelyn not far behind. “Take her, Len,” Jocelyn had urged and for once he’d listened to his ex-wife. The gunshot that followed his departure along with Joanna’s wide, empty eyes, her broken “mamma?” haunt him to this day.

Sometimes, though, he thinks Jocelyn had been the lucky one. In darker moments, he blamers her for taking the easy way out.

For taking your own life is so much easier than –

“Leonard?”

“Just me.” He gets out through clenched teeth.

His cards are a flutter behind him as he all but runs to the nearest toilet to empty his stomach.

 

\---

 

He doesn’t spend much time with Christine after that.

He can’t stand not knowing when she’ll ask what happened and her pitying glances hurt too much.

Instead, he spends most of his time by himself watching everyone take care of their designated tasks from a seat at the rec-tables. He especially watches with interest as Scotty, Jim and some others seem to disappear one morning, returning at different intervals a few hours later.

The next day, it happens again.

On the evening on day five, as they’re getting settled for bed, Leonard decides he needs to start fighting his boredom and thus he asks: “So I know Pavel’s working the radio but where are you two off to every day?” He has his back against the wall and makes sure his voice is soft and inquiring, his body language open.

Jim tenses first but when he turns to Leonard and sees that it was a question out of interest rather than anything else he relaxes a bit. “Have to make sure the building’s safe.”

Leonard frowns. “Safe?” He asks, amused. They’re on the top floor and considering Klingon’s are hardly proficient in climbing the stairs that’s the safest place to be.

Scotty catches on and lets out a short, slightly bitter laugh. “It’s not the Klingon’s we gotta keep out.”

“Ah,” Leonard lowers his eyes, his words _humanity’s lost its mind_ returning to him. He’d spoken from experience and it seems so is Scotty.

“Why don’t you come with me tomorrow.” Jim offers and then grins. “You must be bored.”

“Quite,” Leonard huffs and then, because Jim’s a guy who apparently appreciates it, adds: “Thanks.”

Jim just laughs.

 

\---

 

The next morning he has a tasteless breakfast of watery porridge with Jim, Scotty, Hikaru and Pavel. There’s even instant coffee and it’s good fun watching them interact.

It’s obvious everyone’s close and while it’s nice to see it also makes Leonard feel utterly lost. Not because he’s an outsider but because _he had this_.

But not anymore and Christ, man, try and move on.

He must’ve been glaring into his porridge because on his left, Jim elbows him in the side and he blinks before looking up to find all four men looking at him.

“I was saying,” Pavel says with a small smile and turns to Hikaru. “Maybe he should meet Demora?” He then grins and adds: “As Leonard likes kids.”

It’s teasing, light-hearted and Leonard knows Pavel means it as a joke.

He feels a sting in his chest anyway but not because of the joke.

No-one at the table seems to notice his sudden downcast demeanor – thankfully, he’d hate to get questions – and Hikaru brightens as he turns to Leonard. “If you want to. She’s a bit shy around strangers, mind you.”

“I…” Leonard doesn’t know what to do with the offer. Wants to say yes and no at the same time but he knows he can’t shy away from little girls the rest of his life. So he smiles and when he says “I’d love to,” he means it.

“She asked to stay with me today so when you’re done with your round with Jim just drop by the Lookout.” Hikaru offers.

“Sounds good,” Jim stands up as he speaks and grins widely at Leonard, clasping him on the shoulder. “But first, let’s go exploring.”

Exploring means going down to the fifth floor and checking the traps set at doors, windows and staircases.

“We had a group breaking in a few months ago.” Jim explains softly as they make their way around the factory floor. “No-one got hurt but we lost a month’s worth of food.” He finishes bitterly.

Leonard grimaces. “Wasn’t your fault.”

Jim’s silent for a moment and he looks like he’s going to disagree before he sighs. “No, it wasn’t. But I’ll make sure it never happens again.”

Leonard chuckles, tries to lighten the mood because he doesn’t like seeing that sad look on Jim’s handsome face. “Once a cop always a cop, hm?”

Jim chuckles. “So says the doctor.”

Leonard glances at Jim and when their eyes catch they both laugh.

It seems to break a break the ice and the next hour and a half is filled with conversation, laughter and Leonard’s certain that while his eyes linger just a tad bit too long sometimes, so do Jim’s.

 

\---

 

The Lookout is busier than Leonard expected when Jim and him get there.

It’s Pavel, Scotty and Nyota in one corner discussing at a table with a map spread out on it and on the left at the communication console sits Sulu with a little girl in his lap.

She can’t be older than eight and her black hair is kept together in a messy braid. She’s talking softly to a teddy bear and kicks her feet up and down happily.

There’s a twinge in Leonard’s chest. A pain, an ache, a longing.

He almost comes up with an excuse to leave when Hikaru notices them and waves them over before leaning down to Demora.

“Remember I told you we have someone new living with us?” He asks softly and Demora nods. “Well, he wants to meet you.”

“Really?” Is the curious reply.

Demora’s soft voice dulls his pain, if only slightly. She doesn’t sound familiar at all – not loud enough, not excited enough, not witty enough – and so when Hikaru turns the chair around and Leonard comes face to face with Demora he manages a smile – as opposed to the tears he feels stinging in his eyes.

He walks up to the chair and squats down in front of it, looking up at the girl with a small wave. “Hello sweetheart, I’m Leonard.”

He gets a small smile in return. “I’m Demora.”

“A pretty name for a pretty girl,” pleasant, sweet words that leave a bitter aftertaste in his mouth because this is not the pretty girl those words are meant for.

On the other side of the room, the discussion is getting louder and Hikaru sighs. He leans his head to the side so he can ask Demora: “Do you mind staying with Leonard for a moment? Daddy’s gotta work.”

“No,” Demora shakes her head and easily slides off of Hikaru’s lap who pats her head and gives Leonard a grateful smile before he makes his way over to the table. Meanwhile Demora moves until she’s in front of Leonard and holds out her little teddy bear. “This is Buttons.”

Leonard smiles, a happier one, and shakes the bear’s paw. “Hello Mr. Buttons.

Demora giggles and it melts Leonard’s heart a little bit. Makes him realize right then and there that he’ll never stop loving little kids because they always manage to bring something positive, something happy.

No matter what.

“Say, Mr. Buttons,” he starts, looks at the black beads that are the bear’s eyes and leans his head to the side questioningly. “Demora’s hair is a bit of a mess, isn’t it?”

He glances up at Demora who is looking at him with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

“No offence to your old man,” Leonard tells her and holds up a finger to his mouth. “But how about I fix that for you.”

That’s how Leonard ends up with a lap full of little girl, French-braiding her hair and humming along as she softly serenades Mr. Buttons twinkle, twinkle little star.

 

By the time Leonard’s done he’s made a friend for life and finds the whole Lookout watching him with smiles all around.

He rolls his eyes but can’t keep a smile off of his face when Demora skips over to Hikaru to show off her new hair-style.

Jim walks over to Leonard and leans against the chair, looking at the other with a surprised smile. “You’re good with kids.”

A fond statement.

A painful reminder.

Leonard shrugs, forces a smile to his lips, mumbles “that’s what happens when you’re a doctor” and excuses himself to avoid additional questions.

 

\---

 

A few days later and Leonard’s been out with Jim on patrol every morning.

It’s the most alive he’s felt in ages and spending time with Jim feels like he’s able to breathe again, _allowed_ to breathe again.

It’s liberating, it’s overwhelming. It’s terrifying.

In a world where even death itself is an uncertainty Leonard doesn’t want to hand out his heart again. He wants to keep it close to him, protected in the little cage of his chest and make sure he never has to piece it back together again.

There’s still parts missing from the last time it got shattered.

But before he can stop himself, his mind, his heart, Jim’s become the center of his earth and it’s like he’s drawn towards the man as if it’s by gravity itself.

And just like with gravity, there’s nothing he can do to fight it.

 

\---

 

Leonard watches Spock write in his notepad with interest.

“What’s he writing about?” He asks Jim beside him.

“Klingon’s.” Jim says with a shrug. “Spock’s been studying them.”

Leonard raises his eyebrows in surprise. He’d expected fiction, perhaps a diary but not Klingons. He turns to Spock. “Really?”

“Any research conducted in the field will benefit us once we can get it to the right people.” Spock explains, slowing down in his writing yet he doesn’t look up from the text he is compiling.

“He used to be some sort of scientist before everything went to shit.” Jim explains.

“A virologist, Jim.” Spock admonishes with a roll of his eye.

Ah, Leonard thinks because suddenly Spock’s research makes a lot more sense. He’d been interested himself, in an obscure, vulgar sort of way, to find out what exactly could cause something the whole world thought fiction-only.

Nothing like a first-hand experience to get your feet back down onto earth again, though.

Jim leans his head to the side. “Anything new?”

Spock sighs and leans back against his chair, looking at Jim. “There is hardly any new information to come by at this point. With the limited amount of facts we have available it’s safe to say that the virus eventually infects the brain stem. How long it takes for the virus to reach that point or when one starts noticing the infection for themselves is yet unknown. However –”

“Two weeks,” Leonard blurts before he can stop himself.

Two pairs of eyes whip towards him, Jim’s blue eyes wide and Spock’s set in a small frown.

It’s hard to breathe suddenly, his chest feels constricted and why couldn’t he have kept his big mouth shut?

_Because you will always be a doctor_

He clenches his hands into fists under the table, lowers his eyes and takes a deep breath before he decides that this will benefit others. This will help. This will be good information and if it gives him another week of sleep plagued by nightmares that’s a sacrifice he _should_ be willing to make.

“It takes up to two weeks before the brainstem is infected up to the point where you start noticing behavioral changes.” His voice is soft, shaky.

Spock raises an eyebrow. “How would you know?”

There’s genuine curiosity there combined with apprehension but all Leonard feels is devastated.

“I know.” He gets out through clenched teeth.

There’s tears burning in his eyes, his fists are shaking and there’s a dull static in his ears.

_Don’t give up, sweetheart, daddy’s here for you_

“Leonard?” Jim’s worried voice, a hand on his shoulder.

_Sweetheart? Jo? Say something…_

“I can’t do this,” he whispers and flees.

 

\---

 

By the time he bursts through the door to the roof he’s running, out of breath and the rain falling from the sky might hide his tears but it doesn’t drown out his sobs.

_Daddy, my leg itches._

_Daddy, I’m tired._

_Daddy, my head hurts._

_Daddy, can I have some steak?_

The “God damn it” that leaves his mouth is more of an angry roar and he holds his head tightly between the palms of his hands.

If only he could claw his brain out, get rid of the memories and forget. Because oh God, forgetting would be a blessing.

The door bursts open and Jim’s running up to him through the rain. “Hey man. It’s..” He trails off when he sees Leonard. There’s panic in blue eyes and Jim quickly pulls Leonard into his arms when he’s close enough. “C’mere,” he mumbles, cups the back of Leonard’s head and guides it down to the crook of his neck. “C’mere.”

Leonard closes his eyes, his tears hot against his cheeks and his hands trembling as they cling onto Jim’s shoulders. His body trembles from the flood of emotions, numbing him with a sense of sadness, a sense of loss.

It’s like the tsunami that has been at the horizon for _months_ has finally reached the shore and it’s wrecking everything on its way.

A devastating tragedy.

And he cries, he whimpers and he begs to no-one in particular that “please, I want her back” and for the first time he allows himself to grief.

Held together by the pull of Jim’s gravity, by the softness of his voice and the gentleness of his hands.

 

Later they’re sitting with their backs leaning against the roof bulkhead, sheltered from the rain by the lean-on above them.

It’s calming, the spatter of the rain against the rooftop, the pitter-patter a constant noise that gives Leonard something to focus on.

_Tap tap tap_

It calms his mind, drowns out his thoughts and then there’s Jim’s shoulder against his own which is grounding him in the here and now.

They’re wet and they’re cold but Jim hasn’t mentioned they should go inside and Leonard hasn’t offered either.

He watches the raindrops fall but doesn’t see them, not really.

What he sees has long since passed. Because there is no little girl in a pink dress and ribbons in her hair anymore that can dance in the rain. That can splatter mud on her white shoes while her daddy laughs and her mommy scolds. There is no little girl and there is no mommy.

There is only Leonard.

“She was the most beautiful little girl.” He finds himself saying. “I know every father says that, but she truly was.”

Next to him, Jim gasps.

He must’ve assumed, Leonard thinks. But hearing the words, it seems Jim suddenly understands.

Fingers curl around Leonard’s hand.

He closes his eyes, allowing his head to fall back against the wall behind him with a soft thud. “We left for only half an hour to get some food. When I came back…” He turns to Jim and his eyes are hard, his hand shaking underneath Jim’s. “This bastard had gotten bit and hadn’t told anyone.” He feels red, hot anger boil inside of him. “He was already dead by the time we came back. I shot him twice regardless.”

“I’m sorry,” Jim whispers, squeezes his fingers.

“They kicked Jocelyn and Jo out. No infected in the safe zones. I couldn’t stay behind…” He turns his head down again. He can’t blame anyone for that.

He doesn’t.

It still hurts.

“Jocelyn didn’t want to wait it out. Couldn’t deal with it…” He says and the words are bitter. The fights, the divorce, there aren’t many things he’s ever blamed her for. This, though? The easy way out?

He hates her for it.

Hates himself even more.

“I took Jo and ran.” He laughs without humor, sarcastically and the sound is laced with pain. “I’m a doctor yet somehow I believed it would be all right. Maybe they’d find a cure if I could keep her with me long enough.”

Jim lets out a shuddering breath. “Two weeks,” he mumbles.

“Yea,” tears sting in Leonard’s eyes again.

“Did she…” Jim weakly waves a hand in the air, his words strained.

It’s a question he doesn’t need to ask.

Once infected, there are no cures. There is no medicine.

_Did she turn?_

“Yea,” Leonard whispers.

Jim’s breath hitches despite the confirmation not being a surprise. He squeezes his fingers tightly around Leonard’s hand now. “Did you?”

Leonard closes his eyes and it’s like he’s back in the forest again.

_His heart-wrenching scream, his knees hitting the ground right next to his gun, his little girl’s body limp in his arms. His ‘I’m sorry’s’ and ‘I love you’s’ and the tears that find their way down his cheeks through the god-awful numbness that settles deep within his bones._

_A little quiver through the small body in his arms, a grunt and eyes snap open and tiny, grabby hands reach up, up, up. What he pushes off of him is not his little girl yet his hands still shake around the pistol. He still hesitates. He still screams and cries and rages and she’s almost bit him by the time he squeezes the trigger._

_Silence and emptiness follow._

_He buries her in a shallow grave. Sleeps next to it for a night on the cold, hard ground, his gun clenched in shaking hands._

_He leaves his little girl and his heart the next morning and never goes back._

A sob wrecks its way through Leonard’s body, his “yea” a devastating whine more than anything else and it hurts, _Christ_ it hurts.

Jim pushes himself up on his knees, turns around and engulfs Leonard in a hug.

Hides him from the world.

They speak no more words as Leonard cries and the rain continues to fall.

 

\---

 

Demora gets sick.

Leonard notices it one morning as she sits on his lap for their daily braiding-session. She’s got a light shiver and her breathing is a bit harsh. Nothing too bad and he makes sure she eats his portion of fruit and tells Hikaru and Ben to keep an eye out, have her drink lots of water and have a rest.

She doesn’t get better.

A harsh, persistent couch, a fever, nausea, Leonard’s _worried_.

He examines Demora together with Christine because it might be _just_ a fever, in the wake of the apocalypse nothing is _just anything_ anymore.

“Pneumonia,” Christine sighs as she leans against the hallway wall. “It’s not… good.”

“Do we have antibiotics?” He asks, because Christine knows this place better than he does.

A dark look falls over Christine’s face. “Not anymore.”

Leonard nods, turns away and thinks.

Statistically he knows it’s not good. Even before the apocalypse happened pneumonia killed more children than any other illness and while back then the highest percentages were in developing countries that’s not a comforting thought when the whole world is a developing country nowadays. To treat pneumonia in not only a child but also a child that is severely lacking proper nutrition he needs antibiotics.

Which they don’t have.

“What do we have?” He turns back to Christine.

There’s almost a relief that falls over her face at seeing him calm, collected. Doctor McCoy. This is a man she knows how to work with. “Some light pain relief, vitamin supplements. It’s not much, really.”

Leonard rakes his fingers through his hair with a sigh. Not much indeed.

An office door opens and Hikaru walks out, closing the door behind him and wincing at Demora’s coughs. “So?”

“It’s pneumonia.” Leonard says and he knows he should just tell Hikaru the bad news already. That there will most likely be no way for him to pull a miracle out of his ass that will save Demora.

But he looks at Hikaru and for a moment sees himself hoping Joanna would be fine, just another day and there might be a cure.

So he might not be the professional he used to be when he says “for now we need to quarantine her to her room and make sure she drinks enough fluids,” but he was a father.

 

He excuses himself and goes to the roof.

He needs to think, analyze and he needs to come up with a way to make this better. Not cure, perhaps because he’s not sure he can, but better at least.

Instead of solace, however, he finds Nyota.

She’s sitting on the roof’s edge, taking a short break from her sweeping of the surroundings and she beckons Leonard over with a wave and a smile.

“It’s a nice day,” Nyota says and leans her head up to catch some sun. She peeks up at Leonard with a smile. “Jim could use a break.”

Leonard huffs. “A romantic walk on top of the roof.” He shakes his head at Nyota’s raised eyebrow. “I’m not much in the mood for romance.”

“Demora.” Nyota states with a soft sigh. “It’s horrible to see but for you as a doctor it must be even harder.”

Leonard looks at Nyota for a moment. At the woman who has become a friend and yet she doesn’t _know_.

He decides that perhaps it’s time to stop hiding.

“As a father as well,” he admits, eyes raised up to the sky and a wry smile on his lips.

“Leonard,” Nyota gasps softly.

His heart still bleeds and his mind still cries, but somehow thinking of her is more peaceful now. A sad breeze rather than an overwhelming tsunami.

He sighs a breath of relief.

“Her name was Joanna.” He says and when Nyota whispers “thank you,” and leans her cheek against his leg he closes his eyes, for the first time without tears to blink away.

 

They continue Nyota’s round after the break and when they’re on the other side of the roof a large building across the street catches Leonard’s attention.

He stops and points at it, wondering aloud: “What’s that building?”

“Used to be a medical research facility, I think.” Nyota says and freezes the moment she’s spoken the words.

They look at each other before looking at the building.

And for the first time since what seems like forever, Leonard feels hope.

“It’s our lucky day.”

 

\---

 

There’s a heavy silence in the room, everyone in the Lookout taken by surprise by Leonard’s “I know where to get medicine for Demora and I’m going to get it”.

“I go too, obviously.” Hikaru offers and despite the determination in his eyes he looks awfully pale and unsure.

From the other side of the table, Jim firmly says: “Me too.”

Panic rises in Leonard’s chest and he _knows_ he doesn’t have any right to Jim’s decisions but it doesn’t stop him from saying “no.”

Jim raises angry eyes at Leonard. “If you go, I go.”

Leonard looks at Jim and it’s like the whole room is holding its breath.

He wants to walk over to the man and shake him. Explain to him that the group can’t lose their apparent leader because he’s a stubborn asshole. Want so tell him that Leonard doesn’t want him along because he can’t risk losing someone again. Not so soon.

Before he has a chance to break, however, someone speaks up.

“I’ll go.” A man from the back offers, his voice low and deep and when he steps forward Leonard blinks.

The guy is one big bulk of muscle.

“Hendorff.” Jim warns.

Hendorff just raises an eyebrow. “You have a lover’s spat, fine by me. But they go regardless,” he points at Leonard and Hikaru, “and you know as an ex-Marine I’m better to join them than anyone else.”

Jim looks like he wants to argue but thankfully Nyota chimes in with a: “He’s right, Jim.”

When others start agreeing softly there’s nothing Jim can do anymore.

 

\---

 

After a divorce, Leonard is well aware of how big a small space can feel.

He just hadn’t expected to feel it again, especially not in the face of a _zombie apocalypse_.

But when they come out of the meeting Jim disappears. When Leonard sees him again he’s sitting in a corner having a hushed conversation with Spock and Nyota pointedly _not_ looking at Leonard.

Leonard remembers when, in another life, Jocelyn had done the same. After three shouting-matches, however, he realized in those moments _no_ really meant _no_ and he stopped going to her.

So he sighs, rubs his temples and goes to check on Demora.

He’s in and out of her room in a matter of minutes, wanting to give the family time together. They might just go for a medicine errand across the street but nowadays nothing is certain.

When he leaves, Hikaru follows him.

“Leonard, I wanted to thank you.”

A fleeting smile passes Leonard’s lips. “It’s the least I can do.”

“It’s more than anyone would do.”

“I’ll be damned if I see another girl die.” Leonard returns firmly, hands clenched into fists because damn it, he won’t. Not now that there is a chance.

The sadness and grief that creeps onto Hikaru’s face at the statement is understanding in a way that only a father can be. His hand on Leonard’s shoulder conveying words of condolence, of support that needn’t be spoken.

Leonard can’t help but averts his eyes, Hikaru’s silent support too much and he chuckles humorlessly, feeling like he’s drowning all of a sudden.

“Besides, it’s not like I have anything left to lose.” He mumbles because it’s easier to say than _I’m sorry you’re going through the same hell I did._

Hikaru gives him a pointed look. “Only us.” He waves around the hallway and then raises an eyebrow. “And Jim. Or did you think we were all blind?”

Leonard’s left speechless at the words. He’s grateful and scared in the face of having found a new group of people to care about. A new person to maybe love.

_To lose_

Hikaru pats his shoulder with an understanding smile tinged with sadness. “Just saying.”

 

\---

 

When Leonard returns to the room to find only Scotty and Pavel, he feels strangely disappointed.

Or perhaps not strangely.

He’d hoped to find Jim, talk to him – now that he still can.

Instead Scotty gives him a sad smile when he enters and offers him the bottle of whiskey he’d been sharing with Pavel. “You look like you need it.”

For a moment Leonard considers it, already tastes the whiskey in his mouth and feels the pleasant burn of it down his throat. He shakes his head, however. “Maybe not tonight. Don’t want to have a hangover tomorrow.”

“If there’ll be a tomorrow.” Scotty huffs with a shrug. “But serve yourself.”

“Idiot, of course there will be a tomorrow.” Pavel scoffs with a from and takes the bottle from Scotty. He takes a big swig and makes a face as if he’s surprised he doesn’t actually like the whiskey. “Is not Russian.” He offers as explanation.

Scotty raises an offended eyebrow. “It’s whiskey.”

“It can still be Russian.” Pavel shrugs.

Leonard laughs. “Trust me kid, Russia does vodka better than it does whiskey.”

Pavel grins. “Not fair, vodka is Russian water not alcohol.” In the blink of an eye, however, his mood seems to drop. He takes a shuddering breath as he lowers his eyes. “I miss it.” He whispers, tracing the label on the bottle with his finger, a sad frown on his face and tears glistering in his eyes.

“I know, laddie.” Scotty pulls Pavel over into a one-armed hug and leans his chin atop the other’s head as Pavel buries himself against Scotty’s chest.

Leonard watches, reaches out to place a silent, comforting hand on Pavel’s knee and vows that if tomorrow goes well he’ll start learning Russian.

 

\---

 

They’re a small group gathered at the entry hall – front doors barricaded and Leonard’s been informed they’ll use the side-entrance – and the atmosphere is worse than that of a funeral.

Leonard’s shoulders are tense as he’s squatted down, tying his borrowed steel-tipped shoes. It’ll be fine, he tells himself. Nyota’s scouted their surroundings from the rooftop since sunrise and she hasn’t see a single soul – living, dead or otherwise.

He startles when a gun appears in his line of sight and he glances up to find Jim on the other side.

“Just in case,” he offers, voice low and sullen with a grim expression on his face.

Leonard straightens and takes the gun with a soft “thanks”. He takes Jim in, how he looks like he hasn’t actually slept last night, eyes worried and posture insecure. “It’s just a quick trip across the street.” He says, forcing a smile on his lips because he doesn’t want to leave Jim feeling like this.

Jim’s eye snap up to his, a glare in blue eyes and his lips set in a thin line. “That why you didn’t want me to go?” He grits out.

“What?” Leonard frowns and he takes a small step closer to the other. "Jim," He starts, a _I think I am falling in love with you_ at the tip of his tongue because if not now than _when_.

Jim, however, shakes his head. "They're waiting for you.” He says, indicating to where Hikaru and Hendorff are ready to go. “Let's talk when you're back."

_Let them wait_ , Leonard wants to cry and he’s certain the annoyance on his face says exactly that. He waves a hand in the air almost desperately. "What if -"

"Consider it extra motivation." Jim cuts him off, the grin on lips shaky and fake and his eyes stubbornly refusing to look up at Leonard. Then, he turns on his heels and makes his way over to the others.

Leonard’s left feeling lost and heartbroken. He wants to run over to Jim, turn him around and yell at him because he might not come back. He needs to say this now because what if after these five minutes he never can?

But maybe, a voice in the back of his mind speaks up, maybe that’s why Jim doesn’t want to hear it.

Losing someone whom you can pretend didn’t mean anything to you is the easier option, after all.

So he slips the pistol in its holster, tries not to let his eyes linger on Jim and makes his way over to the side-door they’ll be using.

The plan is simple.

Cross the street, get the meds, go back.

Or, as Hendorff explains: “you keep your mouth shut, your gun drawn and if any of them Klingon’s is after us you run.”

Hikaru frowns. “And if one of us gets left behind?”

Hendorff raises an eyebrow at Hikaru, voice steady and eyes cold as he replies: “Two extra Klingon’s is worse than one. Someone gets left behind, we leave them behind.”

Hikaru swallows yet nods, eyes fierce and determined.

Leaving someone behind isn’t something anyone _wants_ to do but Leonard knows it’s what sometimes has to be done.

Leonard just hopes it doesn’t come to that.

“And doctor.” Hendorff calls and turns to Leonard. “Count your rounds.”

“What?” Leonard frowns.

Hendorff huffs. “I saw you when you came here, trying to shoot an empty gun. Count your bullets.” He waves at the pistol. “You have 12. Got it?”

Leonard nods, tells himself twelve.

_Twelve, twelve, twelve_

 

\---

 

Walking down a destroyed, empty street will never stop unnerving Leonard.

He’s on high alert, skin tingling with unease and every breath of wind makes his heart jump, every little movement of the smallest thing littering the street has him pointing his gun.

He feels cold despite the blue sky and the sun beaming down on them and the small distance to cross the street feels like miles rather than feet.

But it’s calm, it’s quiet and there is naught but the three of them on the street making for a relatively easy crossing.

“There,” Leonard whispers and points a little to their left where the facility’s on-site store is.

“Stay behind me.” Hendorff’s tone doesn’t allow any room for argument as he turns and with his gun raised makes his way over to the door. He sticks close to the wall, doesn’t take his eyes off of his target and he moves slow, one foot in front of the other so stealthily Leonard is surprised.

When they reach the door, Hendorff pauses. He looks back at Leonard and Hikaru and it’s not exactly fear in his eyes but whatever it is, it’s _not_ reassuring. “Stick close to me and when I open that door… you shoot everything that moves in there, okay?”

He doesn’t wait for them to confirm. Knows that they _will_ , whether they want to or not.

He walks up to the door and Leonard’s world seems to disappear around it. There’s white noise in his ears, an intense concentration taking over his body and it’s the adrenaline that keeps him focused, steadfast.

He’s not sure if he’s breathing when Hendorff’s hand lands on the door handle.

There is a moment of hesitation, then. A small tremor running down Hendorff’s neck and besides him, Leonard can hear a harsh breath from Hikaru.

This is it, he thinks. This could very well be the end. Because what’s on the other side of the door? How many Klingon’s will come rushing out? How many infected might be hiding out? How many –

Hendorff lowers the handle, slowly pushes the door open with one hand while his gun is pointed towards the entrance with the other.

Thank _fuck_ the door is quiet.

It’s dark inside and for a few seconds the world stands still.

The three of them stand with bated breath, guns pointed and Leonard’s certain his aren’t the only hands shaking.

It’s dark inside, the open door throwing in sunlight but it’s not enough to light all of the dark corners.

Hendorff steps forward, over the threshold and inside.

Just one step, then he waits.

Stands still, gun moving around the room together with his eyes as they get used to the dark. It’s silent inside except for their own breathing.

A good sign.

Then, however, Hendorff mutters “fuck”, turns, aims and shoots.

The shot is loud through the small room. Seems to echo off the walls, rings in Leonard’s ears.

It sends a shock through his body, pulls his muscles taut and there’s fear, there’s urgency and _fuck, fuck, fuck_ what if it’s Klingons?

He doesn’t want to find out but his body is acting by itself.

He feels numb as he moves, eyes flying through the room and as he comes to a standstill besides Hendorff he turns his eyes to the corner where the other shot at.

It takes him a few blinks to be able to see anything but light flashes in the darkness and when he does a relieved laugh bubbles up inside of him.

There in the corner stands a plastic skeleton, now with additional hole right between the eye sockets.

“Good shot, though.” Hikaru mumbles, impressed. Breathless.

_Terrified_

Leonard feels the same and the chuckle that escapes him is more relief than anything else.

Hendorff lets out a long breath through his nose, lowers his gun a tad bit and his shoulders relax if only slightly. “Right,” he mumbles and it sounds like he’s rolling his eyes at himself. Then he nods at Leonard. “Get your stuff, Doctor. I’ll keep an eye out.”

Leonard takes in the shop which, dear Lord, is so much smaller than he’d hoped for.

“What do we need?” Hikaru asks.

Leonard takes a moment to think, to asses. What can he use, what does a small place like this probably have?

“We need Amoxicillin.” He decides and stalks over to the back where the prescribed medicine are kept. “But this is all alphabetically ordered. It should not be difficult.” He mumbles and scans the drawers, Hendorff shuffling not far behind and Hikaru breathing down his neck.

Then he finds the drawer he needs and he holds his breath as he opens it, praying that please, please don’t let it be empty.

It’s not.

There’s a harsh sigh of relief passing his lips when he sees the boxes they need and he grabs as many as he can.

Gives two to Hikaru, one to Hendorff and shoves two down his own pockets. “Just in case.” He mumbles.

In case something goes wrong, someone doesn’t make it back.

“All right, let’s go.” Hendorff points at the door and he’s already walking away.

Hikaru follows quickly and Leonard moves as well, but not to the door.

There’s a plastic bag on the floor and too many supplies for him to leave behind.

He can’t just leave now.

Can’t have this many opportunities to save someone’s life right at his fingertips and leave them behind.

_It’s not much, really._

Christine’s words haunt him and he knows he never wants to hear them again. When someone else gets sick he doesn’t want to be useless, damn it!

“Leonard!” Hendorff’s voice sounds from the doorway, impatient and annoyed.

“Go, I’ll be right behind you.” Leonard calls, heart leaping happily as he finds a shelf with sterile saline bottles and a few basic IV start kits.

“You better be, Doctor. Jim is going to kill me if you’re not.” Hendorff mumbles.

Quick, Leonard thinks. Hurry, damn it, hurry!

He opens the drawer to his right – he thinks it’s pain relievers but he hardly knows for certain – and is randomly grabbing boxes now, shoving them in the bag when there’s a crash on the other side of the room.

His hand freezes mid-air and his blood runs cold, his mind panics.

“Hendorff?” He calls but he knows it’s not Hendorff because the guy is already out the door.

Bag clenched in one hand he grabs his gun again, turns around and he’s not breathing, doesn’t feel as if he’s living at all as he turns slowly, _slowly_.

Because he doesn’t want to see what’s there.

He _hears_ what’s there – the low, guttural groans, the harsh breathing of something that shouldn’t be breathing anymore. He _feels_ the gaze of something he’s not sure can see resting on him and it makes the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

He’s not surprised when he sees the Klingon but it makes his heart fall, his breath stutter nonetheless.

Because o _f fucking course_ it stands right between him and the exit.

“Leonard?” Hendorff’s voice is urgent, panicked at the edges and it sounds far away.

So far away.

The Klingon hesitates, seems confused at the prospect of _two_ victims and this is Leonard’s fault, so he will suffer the consequences.

“Go!” He shouts back at Hendorff, desperation in his voice and he can only hope his companions are smart enough to run instead of being the heroic kind that gets themselves killed.

_Someone gets left behind, we leave them behind_

He clutches the bag to his chest and aims his pistol, takes a breath to steady both his hands and his racing heart and squeezes the trigger – fast, too fast.

His aim is off, the bullet launching itself into a wall and the Klingon doesn’t care, just keeps moving.

_One_

There’s a sudden tumult from the backroom, things being shoved aside as if someone – _something_ – is trying to push their way towards the shop.

Leonard’s heart falls because of fucking course somehow he’s managed to wake up the whole local Klingon community that’s now out for breakfast.

_Of course_

He shoots again – _two_ – and hits the Klingon in the chest and because he’s made enough stupid decisions to last him a lifetime in the past five minutes he shoots _again_.

_Three_

This time the bullet nestles itself where Leonard wants it to be. Right between the eyes.

The Klingon stumbles and falls and Leonard dares a glance to the door to the backroom.

The open door to the backroom.

He shoots once at the Klingons stumbling through the door – _fuck, four_ – and then he’s off.

He runs, runs, _runs_. Faster, he tells his feet as they carry him to the door. Faster, hurry!

The moment he runs outside and has to squint his eyes at the sudden burst of sunlight. It makes him pause, stumble because _fuck, it’s bright_.

“Run, you idiot!” Hendorff’s voice is loud even from across the street.

It kicks Leonard into action, his mind into fleeing and his feet into moving.

He’s running, gun clenched in one hand and the bag in the other. Running over the pavement, the street, towards the door where it’s not just Hendorff waiting but also Hikaru, Soctty and Jim.

_Jim_

He looks terrified, Leonard can see even from halfway down the street and it makes him want to go faster.

His feet are heavy falls against the pavement, his hands sweaty and before he knows what’s happened the bag has slipped from his grasp.

It falls to the ground with a loud thud which is echoed in Leonard’s heart.

_No!_

The supplies, his mind panics. He can’t lose the supplies!

He turns back without thinking.

“Leonard!” Jim yells and there’s so much panic in his voice. “Leonard you asshole! Run!”

By the time he reaches the bag he knows he’s made a bad decision.

The Klingons are closer than he thought, there’s more coming from the side and it feels like he’s being surrounded, crowded in and _shit, shit, shit!_

He shoots and shoots and shoots because he _knows_ running won’t do him any good if he’s surrounded.

_Five_

_Six_

_Seven_

_Eight_

_Nine_

_Ten_

He has the bag – at least there’s that – and he’s down four Klingon’s but out of the ten that are still surrounding him it hardly feels like it matters.

Another one has creeped closer, tries to lunge at Leonard and he shoots without flinching, a scowl on his face.

_Eleven_

That’s when his world stops.

His throat feels dry, his hand trembles and realization dawns upon him.

_You have twelve_

He looks back at The Enterprise and it looks like panic has broken out. But all Leonard sees is Jim. Jim pushing his way past Scotty and Hikaru.

_He’s coming for you_ , Leonard thinks.

No.

_No, no, no!_

He can’t let Jim do that. Can’t let the other get himself _killed_.

He turns desperate eyes up to Hendorff.

Hendorff who reaches out a strong arm to hold Jim back, who is shouting at Hikaru and Scotty but all Leonard hears is the white noise ringing in his ears.

Their eyes catch and it only takes a breathless second for Hendorff’s eyes to widen, his grip on Jim to tighten.

A few more seconds, Leonard thinks to himself. Please hold him back for a few more seconds.

When he puts the gun to his head, his hand is surprisingly steady.

This is it.

He closes his eyes. Sees his parents, Jocelyn, Jo.

_Jim_

Jim, whose screams are the only thing he hears through the static. Whose shouts are anger and devastation and grief all in one. They break Leonard’s heart as much as they set his resolve.

He can’t let Jim put himself in danger for a lost cause.

His hand trembles, a tear slips down his cheek and he lets out a shuddering breath.

“I’m sorry,”

The sound of a gun going off echoes loudly in the air.

But there’s no pain, no shockwave through his body.

Just a Klingon falling lifelessly to the ground.

_Not his gun_

It was not his gun.

Leonard’s eyes are wide and he stumbles forward. Lets out a harsh breath and a devastated, relieved cry because _it was not his gun_.

He’s alive!

Another shot, another Klingon down and another and another and _another_.

It’s all a blur after that.

It’s Nyota, Spock and Pavel shooting from the roof.

It’s Hendorff and Jim rushing towards him with aluminum baseball bats, hitting every Klingon in the way.

It’s Leonard running, shouting and screaming because “go back, just go back!”

It’s both a split-second and a life-time.

It’s the three of them stumbling through the door, almost falling over each other and Hikaru and Scotty close the door with a loud thud.

The noises from outside are drowned out.

The Klingon’s groans cut off the door.

No-one says a word.

Hikaru and Scotty stand at the door, faces pale and eyes wide.

Hendorff and Jim are covered in blood that’s not their own, catching their breath.

And Leonard.

Leonard lays on his back, reveling in the feeling of the cold floor at his back. The sight of the ceiling. The sound of his own breath.

His heart is beating, there’s blood running through his veins.

_He’s alive_

A laugh bubbles up inside of him.

“You think that was _funny_?” Jim demands. He takes two strides and falls down onto his knees next to Leonard. His hands are fists against Leonard’s shoulders before he hauls the other up and blue eyes flash with desperation, with relief. “Idiot!” Jim shouts and his voice trembles, his eyes tear up. “You stupid, stupid –”

And then Jim is kissing him. Has his the palms of his hands cupped against the back of Leonard’s head, his lips rough and needy as they move against Leonard and he takes, takes, _takes_ now that he can.

Now that Leonard’s alive.

Leonard reaches out, an arm around Jim’s waist and another around his shoulder and he pulls him in close. Wants to feel, to touch and everything is desperate. From the way his body arches into Jim’s to the way their lips move together.

The kiss breaks and they only take a moment to catch their breath, to be emerged to one another. Yet when their eyes catch it’s fire, relief and desperation again and they kiss and kiss and kiss because they _can_.

Jim strokes a thumb roughly down Leonard’s cheek, voice raspy as he demands: “Don’t ever do that again.”

“I’ll try,” Leonard promises, rubs circles against Jim’s shoulder.

“You better,” Jim kisses Leonard again. Softer now. Almost tender and loving now that the rawness of desperation has worn off. “You better.”

 

\---

 

The first thing Leonard does when he gets upstairs is check on Demora.

He finds Christine, Hikaru and Ben there and Christine’s already received the antibiotics and the plastic bag of other supplies and has done a marvelous job of taking care of the little girl.

Leonard doesn’t have to do anything but still he runs his checks, needs to make sure and Christine lets him with a huffed laugh.

By the time he’s done and is hugged by two relieved fathers, both Hikaru and Ben have tears in their eyes and their “thank you’s” are grateful. Hikaru’s “I hope you found peace” unspoken but conveyed through a gentle hand on Leonard’s shoulder and a soft, small smile nonetheless.

Nyota yells at him before she hugs him and from behind her he catches Spock’s eyes who gives him a small, relieved nod.

Pavel calls him an array of Russian words which Leonard are sure range between idiot and asshole and for once he doesn’t hold back, doesn’t resist and he pulls the kid into a hug. Pavel lets him, fists a hand into the back of Leonard’s shirt with another Russian curse and Leonard laughs. “You’re gonna have to teach me those.”

Scotty brings out a bottle of bourbon which he’d saved for special occasions and it doesn’t take long for the grave atmosphere to make place for relief and light banter.

When Hendorff passes him by, Leonard can’t help but raise an eyebrow at the man. “What happened to getting left behind?”

Hendorff looks like he’s half a second away from punching Leonard in the face despite the small smirk that’s tugging at his lips. He shakes his head and as he walks off mutters: “You’re one of a kind, Doctor.”

“You always this grateful?” Jim jokes and hits Leonard in the shoulder with a raised eyebrow.

Leonard laughs in return but Christ, those words.

He’d huffed at them when he met Jim, in the dark hallway with guns poking against his head. But who would’ve thought that in the midst of nothing, Leonard would find _this?_ A new home, a new family, _Jim_.

“More than my words can ever express.” He says and smiles.

Finally, he feels at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://thevalesofanduin.tumblr.com/) <3


End file.
